


Little Red Ball

by Rainydaysunrise



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Eating Disorders, F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 18:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16413230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainydaysunrise/pseuds/Rainydaysunrise
Summary: No one understood that he felt like he was flying.No one understood the need to feel the ache in his muscles.No one understood the need to punish when being born was the crime in question.So he pretended to get better.But Simon Snow can only do so much before it comes out in a goddamn scream.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: eating disorder and other triggering content. Take care of yourselves, it's understandable if you click away!
> 
>  
> 
> Also: no Agatha/Simon. I haven’t gotten inspired to write any and maybe one day I will. But today is not that day. I need to reread the book to get a feel for them. I love Agatha, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t know how to write her.

Prologue:

 

“Simon, you can’t keep living like this.” 

There were always voices like that, ever since he had first gotten sick. Or rather when people had found out.

He hadn’t ever meant for anyone to find out, but days and days of fasting, of chewing and spitting and puking made it hard on his body. It made him boney and angular. It made him feel like he was moving faster, a symptom of a symptom. 

Which was a symptom of a symptom of a symptom. 

But no one got it. 

No one understood that he felt like he was flying. 

No one understood the need to feel the ache in his muscles.

No one understood the need to punish when being born was the crime in question.

So he pretended to get better.

He went to the meetings that the group home signed him up for and behaved. 

He ate enough to keep them away.

But when he went back to school, things got...Harder. He needed to eat to keep up the image. Penelope thought he was okay, she didn’t know. Ignorance is bliss. 

And somehow he kept the secret until fourth year when everything came crashing down. 

A fainting spell is what they called it. 

But it would lead up to the rest of his life, the day that Simon Snow, conquered his demons.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Trigger warning as stated in first chapter! Take care of yourselves!

"Snow. You need to get up.” 

Simon rolled over, moaning softly as he became more aware of the warmth of his bed. It cradled him and made his bones ache less. Getting up in the cold room would make him ache and hurt, all he wanted was to stay wrapped up. 

“Snow.” 

“Snow.”

“Snow.”

“OW! MOTHERFUCKER! You could have hit me!”

Simon chuckled to himself and forced himself to sit up. “If you weren’t pestering me, we wouldn’t have that problem.” 

He got out of bed, walking past Baz who was picking himself up off the floor, and made his way to the shower.

X

Twenty minutes later, Simon emerged from the bathroom to an empty room.

‘Baz must have left already.’ He thought, running his hand through his hair. Late nights always meant him being gone early. Sneaky Bastard probably was off plotting with his cronies. 

But it meant he had the room to himself. 

The scale he had hidden under his bed found its way out…

His fingers wrapped around the cold metal. 

Stepped on, no extra weight holding him down.

120…

He was officially standing on goal number one. 

Goal number two: 115

Baby steps, Simon, Baby steps. 

He threw on his uniform and smiled to himself as he documented his progress in the black and white marble notebook he kept under his bed. Right next to his kit. 

It had everything still, he hoped. It was hard enough getting it back to watford without notice. 

The instructors at the home hadn’t cared what he brought back, so long as he wasn’t a problem.

The mage and the gates out front however were another story. 

Plastic knives and forks, spoons. No glass. No metal. No sharps. 

A home for disturbed boys. 

Fuck disturbed. Fuck them. 

Simon felt his anger rise, in the way it did when he “went off”, as Penelope so graciously called it. 

He had to calm down, to breathe.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

One. 

Two.

Three. 

One.

Two.

Three. 

And he was settling down, shoving everything under his bed. Far back enough that it was impossible to see. 

‘A normal day. Let’s just have a normal day.’ He thought, grabbing his bag and hurrying out the door. Penelope would be expecting him at breakfast. And the thought scared him.

X

Simon sat alone in between classes, laughter ringing in his own ears and from his own mouth. A normal day, just one normal day. 

But the mage had other plans. 

He had pulled Simon out of class with a note to his professor. Leaving him to find his way to through the corridor himself. 

As he walked, he realized that he would likely miss lunch if he could drag it out. An excuse. A good one too. 

Penelope had commented that he looked slimmer this morning, Agatha said he looked like he was sick.

So he told them that he was probably coming down with something. 

Normal day, right? 

Normal fucking day.

But Simon only half cared. He was starting to finally feel okay in his own skin as the golden boy.

Watford’s golden boy.

The Mage’s bitch.

Gods, he was going to be late to his meeting. 

He turned from where he stood by the window and laughed, a damn good excuse. 

X

 

The Mage stood by the window, the dust motes settling around him. Simon Snow. The boy who would come to live was in his office looking expectantly at him. 

“Do you know why you’re here, Simon?” 

The boy chewed on a hangnail.

“No, Sir.”

“You’re here because you’ve shown little interest in your studies. It’s been showing in your marks.” 

“And?”

“And? And what, Simon? I’m asking for an explanation.”

“And I’m asking to return to class.” 

“And I’m saying answer me.” 

Simon was quiet as he sat rabbit still. Instinct kicking in. Talking never helped, he knew he was slacking off, but didn’t really care enough to do anything about it. He just wanted a normal life. 

“Just tired is all, Sir.” He lied easily. “I haven’t been sleeping very well.”

The Mage softened a bit, eyes glancing over the boy. “Is that all?” He was worried, naturally. But this boy needed to be alert and aware and all of the things a Chosen one was supposed to be. 

“Yes, Sir.” He replied, offering a small smile. 

“Alright then… I expect to see improvement. But take the rest of your day to rest. You look like you’re coming down with something.” 

Standing too quickly, Simon held the back of the chair for support. He couldn’t hear a thing The Mage was saying but nodded anyways. He wouldn’t let on. He was doing so well.

Finally, his hearing came back enough that he could hear the older man dismissing him. 

“Thank you, Sir.” Simon mumbled, stepping out of the office with little grace and headed to his dormitory, the door shutting behind him.

X

Baz opened the door to the room four hours later, eyes zoning in on the sleeping form of Simon. “What are you doing here?” 

Simon mumbled something that sounded like “Sick.” and rolled over to face the wall. 

“Do you need anything?” 

More awake now, Simon chuckled. “Do you care?” 

“Snarky today, aren’t we?” 

He decided not to honor it with a reply and shut his eyes. Willing himself to think about the life he wanted.   
His friends were still there. Agatha, Penelope, Ebb, even Baz the prat. But he was with his family, or who he wished was his family. 

He’d have his own room.

Possessions that didn’t live in a suitcase.

A comfy, big bed that wouldn’t smell like dirt. 

He would be happy to come home everyday, dirty and laughing. 

This was his “Happy place” as they put it. 

And no one could take it from him. Not The Humdrum, not The Mage, not Baz. No one. And to him, right now, that made him rest. 

X

Baz’s soft breathing was all that Simon could focus on. 

It was loud in its own way. But why the soft snoring? 

Why Baz? 

 

Just Baz. 

He got out of bed quietly, careful not to wake him because waking him meant questions. Waking him would mean busted.

The floorboards creaked under him; the air still. 

Baz’s face pressed in the pillow ungracefully. 

‘I’m so fucked.’ Simon thought, wincing when the door shut behind him a little too loud. 

Once in the corridor, he was there. He was breathing. He was whole. He was...Simon.

He was human.

And as humans often do in times of stress,

He ran.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter two: Hunger

‘Day four the fast.’

Simon couldn’t focus on much today, his eyes darting to and from his textbook to Penny.

It was a normal day.

A normal life.

A normal fucking life.

His head hit the desk with a thump, Penelope rubbing his back sympathetically. 

“You’ll get this.”

“Nope. Never. I’m never going to understand political science.”

“Simon.”

“No.” His head stayed down.

“I think we need a study break.”

Standing up slowly, he let out a sigh. School sucked right now. Life sucked right now. He had had an awful morning and it wasn't exactly helping his mood either.

Waking up early enough to grab a shower before Baz, being so certain he had been sure Baz was gone because for god’s sake he had heard the door shut. Walking out to the “Fucking Hell, Simon…” That came from his roommates lips as he dropped his book, And Simon pretending he didn’t hear him. 

Yeah, really shit morning. 

Simon gathered his books and walked off towards the dining hall, Penny trailing behind him. 

Lunch was quiet, he didn’t eat and faked answers about not feeling well and being stressed when people asked.

He could see Baz talking to Agatha on the other side of the room.

His heart clenched uncomfortably.

Breathe, Simon. 

Breathe. 

In and out. 

He couldn’t help but stare. 

At both of them really, not just one. 

It was… unfair. 

And he didn’t know how. 

But as humans do, and Simon Snow being the most human of all,

He ran.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Chapter starts in the morning of the last chapter, when Simon was in the shower and goes from there. Just clarifying so I don’t forget myself. Also it’s a Baz chapter. On with the show!

Baz sat on his bed waiting for the water to cut on. Something was wrong with Simon, more than usual. But it was weird. Plain weird. 

His whole attitude had shifted over the summer and it had carried into fall. It was like Baz or anyone really, didn’t exist. 

It was like Simon Snow was fraying at the edges. 

And really, what should he care if the golden boy broke? 

It might do the school, and possibly the mage, a favor. 

But it didn’t make the ball of worry in his stomach disappear. No, with every passing day, Simon was looking sicker and sicker. And it made him want to shake him. 

Baz got up and made a show of stomping towards the door and slamming it. 

If Simon didn’t know he was here, he couldn’t get mad. And it wasn’t like Simon ever wasn’t mad at him so really, he had nothing to lose.

Right? 

Crouching down, he looked under Simon’s bed, the stacks of black and white marble notebooks labeled for classes and organized. Very un-Simon like. And there was that one in the very back wedged in between the headboard and the wall. 

He pulled it out, listening intently at the sounds of Simon showering, it sounded like he had maybe 6 minutes to finish his snooping. No, it wasn’t snooping if you were worried your roommate might go postal on you. 

The first page hit him so hard that it hurt to breathe. Numbers and words and caloric intake and punishments. He turned the pages until he could not bring himself to read anymore. 

He shoved it back under the bed where it had been.

Like he’d been burned with holy water.

Only this stung more. 

He stood, his textbook in hard, and stared at Simon’s bed in shame. 

Fuck.

He should have noticed sooner. He had to talk to Simon, to get him to talk. Be it to him or to someone else. He hated that everything stood out clearer now. He could see the days when he’d come in and just crash for hours. Baz thought he was being selfish, when really he had a reason to be-

“Oh… I thought you had left.” The voice made Baz look up. 

“Fucking hell, Simon…” It came out before he could stop himself. The boy was so...tiny and fragile looking. Even with his tshirt and trousers, he looked sick.

Simon turned from him and went about his morning, no signs of anxiety or worry on his face. It was the hollow in his cheeks and wrists, the curve of his spine through the shirt, and the sunken eyes that made Baz’s heart flop like a dead fish.

Simon Snow, Watford’s golden boy, needed help. 

And this wasn’t just a cry, it was a goddamn scream.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for all of the positive feedback! I am going to continue writing on this for a while longer, I have some more planned for them! 
> 
> I hope you all have a good day! Thank you for reading!

Chapter four: winter

Weeks passed for Simon, he was happy though. Or getting there. He had a schedule that he stuck to.

Wake up. 

Lay in bed.

Wait for Baz to leave. 

Shower. 

Go to the dining hall to get breakfast.

Don’t eat breakfast. 

Go to class. 

Go to class. 

Go to class. 

Go to class.

Break with Penny. 

Eat a small meal (Usually fruit or celery or something moderately good for him.)

Go to class.

Be a person.  
Skip dinner.

Go to bed.

 

Lather, rinse, repeat. He’d occasionally read or do his homework while Baz snored into his pillow. 

Sleep had been getting harder. But it was sleep, so why was it so hard? 

He sat in the goat field, reading a Harry Potter book from his bag. He’d borrowed it from Penny and liked the series. He was on book 5: Order Of The Phoenix. Big difference, much darker than the other ones. 

But he was content. 

A paper cup of coffee at his side as he laid in the grass.

He was so absorbed in what he was doing that he hadn’t heard anyone approach. 

“Simon?” 

The voice was stern but soft.

It made Simon jump as he realized who it was. 

Agatha. 

She looked as beautiful as she did, her pretty eyes wide with wonder and...worry? 

Simon suddenly felt very uncomfortable next to her as she sat down.

“Simon...Are you okay?”

The words made his heart speed up, eyes on the grass in front of him.

He remembered seeing her and Baz talking, the way both of them looked to be on the edge of tears. 

Oh gods…

Simon stood up clumsily, throwing everything into his bag and walking off.

It was rude, yes. But he didn’t want to be asked stupid questions. He didn’t want to lie or not lie or whatever the hell he was doing.

He didn’t want her to worry. 

“Simon! Hey, Simon!” She was following him across the field, faster than he would have ever thought possible. Or maybe he was just moving slower. 

He felt her grab his arm and felt the burst of magic fly from him like a gunshot. 

Looking back at her, sitting five feet away on her bum in the dirt, looking at him as if he had slapped her, something broke. 

Things got darker until they were black, then lighter until they were white.

He could hear ringing in his ears. 

Bells, almost. 

Bells that rang so loud, he could hardly hear Agatha’s voice over them.

Finally, he came to his senses, Agatha and Baz (When the hell had he gotten here?) Were kneeling around him, concern on both of their faces. 

“Hey...Easy.” Baz’s voice was soft, choosing his words as Simon sat up.

“Hey...Don’t tell me what to do.” Simon retorted, gingerly rubbing the aching spot on his head. 

Baz sighed and reached down, scooping Simon into his arms with ease, much to the smaller boy’s anger. 

“Watch it. You’ll go off again. We’re taking you to the nurse.” 

Simon’s heart froze.

“Please. I’m fine. Really.” 

They’d undo his progress. He was fine, just tired. 

Just tired.   
Just tired..  
Just tired...  
Just tired....

Simon snow was tired, eyes dropping again as he listened to the bells ring. Faintly this time, but as familiar to him as an old lullaby.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely feedback! It's meant so much to me! 
> 
> Sorry for the delay on the chapter, I was out of town this weekend. 
> 
> Also, I know my writing style is a bit odd for this chapter, apologizing now. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: Eating disorders and other sensitive topics in this story. Please take care of yourselves. Click away if you need to, I understand! <3 Stay safe.

Chapter 5: Found out.

Baz watched Agatha run ahead, she was going to inform the nurse of what had happened.

He wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t see the dirt on Agatha’s jeans, and the tear in the back from where she fell.

However he wasn’t going to pretend with Simon anymore. 

He wasn’t going to pretend that when his eyes slid shut, that it didn’t made his heart stop.

He wasn’t going to pretend that when the blood dripped from his nose, he walked faster but didn’t run because he didn’t want to hurt Simon any further.

He wasn’t going to pretend that when he made his way through the doors of the castle, tears started pouring from his eyes. 

And when the orderly in the Infirmary took Simon and laid him out on a cot, while another questioned him and Agatha. 

They answered what they could, what they knew. 

They answered yes and no and maybe and who knows how long’s. 

When they were asked to leave, and ensured that Simon would be in good hands, they left together. Neither wanting to be alone.

They walked the grounds together while Simon slept, their eyes teary and hearts heavy. Something had been wrong and before today, no one had done anything to help.

Not even the Mage. 

Fuck, if the Mage was so high and mighty, then he might have been able to keep this from getting out of hand.

But no, he only cared about “Saving the world” and “The Chosen One.” 

But Simon wasn’t going to be the “Chosen one”.

He was a boy and a boy who was hurting, screaming, pleading for help. And no one saw until it was too late. 

They spoke rarely, both of them in a haze. 

And only then it was short phrases. 

“Is he going to be okay?”

“What could we have done different?”

“Did you see him at breakfast this morning?”

“We need to tell Penny.” 

Small phrases that spoke so much for both of them, for everyone, but shouted they needed each other. 

 

X

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X

 

Dreaming of so many things, Simon knew that none of it made sense. None of it had to.

He knew he was dreaming.

The smell of cinnamon and burnt cloves and sugar.

Hearing quiet singing near his right ear. 

The feeling you get when you hit the water after jumping in.

The sound as it rushes into your ears.

Occasionally, he’d drift towards the surface, his peace and warmth more important, only to hear what was going on. 

One time he heard The Mage.

“Simon Snow is the Chosen One. We can’t have him like this. You need to fix it. Use a spell or something-”

“David. It isn’t that simple.”

“And how is it not?” 

He let himself sink back in after that. He did not want to come up yet. Even though eventually, he would have to.

The darkness was comforting and quiet. 

Peaceful.

Warm. 

Home.

It was home right now. 

But something, after a while started pulling at him.

Gently dragging him to the surface and letting go when he would pull against it.   
But he had to go back and there was no point in fighting it any longer. 

The feeling of floating

Edging his way out, he felt fear. But he also felt calm.

Simon Snow was waking up and he did not know how to handle it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning/evening! :D 
> 
> I hope you all have a great day and thank you so much for all of the positive feedback! I appreciate you all! <3
> 
> Trigger warning: Eating disorders and other sensitive subjects mentioned. Tags will be added next chapter for implied self harm and thoughts of such. Take care of yourselves. I understand if you click away!

Chapter 6: Awakenings

Opening his eyes was a challenge, but once they were open, he could keep them that way.

He felt exhausted. 

And…

Empty. 

He felt empty.

The room he was in wasn’t sterle or white or full of the things he’d come to associate with hospitals.

It was warm, brown and tan in color, his bed still a hospital bed.

His head buzzed uncomfortably as he realized where he was.

Watford Infirmary. 

One step below a hospital. 

Fuck. 

Fuck.

Fuck. 

One step above psych ward.

He sat up and shook his head a bit, trying to get rid of the exhaustion and fuzz. 

“Simon…”   
He turned to look at the door, Basilton stood there, shivering lightly.

“Are you having a stroke or something?” Simon prodded, clearing his throat after hearing how croaky he was.

Baz put the cup holder down on the table beside the door and crossed the space between them in three easy steps.

Simon expected him to deck him, but instead, he felt Baz’s arms around him.

“Scare me like that again and I’ll kill you.” 

Confusion crossed the shorter boy’s features, not quite understanding.

Finally Baz let him go, a bit embarrassed. “So, you aren’t dying anymore. Not that you were. But you really scared Agatha. She’s chosen to forgive you for it. But The Mage and some people are here to ask you questions and all of that shit.”

“Fun.”

“Do you want me to tell them that you aren’t awake yet?” 

Simon raised an eyebrow.

“You’re lying for me now?” 

“Do you want me to do it or not?” 

The silence carried for a second before Simon nodded his head. Not ready to face the reality of what had happened. 

Baz moved from the side of the bed and sat in the chair opposite of him, opening his computer and getting comfortable. 

“Go back to sleep then. You look worse than I do.” 

Simon chuckled a bit and laid back down, turning so he could get comfortable, but not enough that the tube in his hand was jostled. 

The last thing he heard before sleep took him was the sound of Baz typing and sighing. 

It was an odd sound indeed…

But he wasn’t going to question the kindness. 

Not today anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> Also: There isn’t really a time period for this. We’ll say about fall (?) of Carry on. Simon and Baz aren’t a couple yet, but both are quite...protective of each other without having to say anything.


End file.
